


I have a happy life I don't live

by Zeona



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized racism, Kid Loki and Kid Thor (Marvel), Prompt Fill, Racism, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Short, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-24 15:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeona/pseuds/Zeona
Summary: Following this the Inktober prompt list but instead of drawing, I write. Consists of scenes from Loki's childhood, teens, adult years etc.Some scenes are canon compliant some are not.





	1. Poisonous

_ Can you really call me your brother? _

He writhes against the stone as the snake coils above. 

_ As certainly as I can never call you a monster. _

The entrails of his sons burn more than the acid dripping on his eyes.

Oh, the liar has been lied to. 

The trickster weeps with blinded eyes. 


	2. Tranquil

In the Allfather's grand library, all was quiet. It was absent but for a boy and his brother. 

A restless shuffle on the younger's left. A sniffle and then a nosy head poking over a cloaked shoulder.

"Read me a story, brother," Thor whines. 

A sigh and a rustle of pages. A moment of quiet contemplation.

"In the Allfather's grand library, all was quiet. It was absent but for a boy and his brother."


	3. Roast

"What of the lives you took on Earth?" Frigga shoots back. Her tongue ever so quick to burn. He got that from her. She was his mother after all.

"A mere handful compared to the number that Odin's taken himself." He smirks at that. Odin can go taste his own bitter hypocrisy. 

"Your father-"

"He's not my father!" He snarls.

"And am I not your mother?"

He hesitates. Her eyes burn and the hot flame of her ~~love~~ wrath incinerates his will.

"You are not."

She purses her lips and the fire only burns hotter.

"Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself."

The bitter taste of his hypocrisy stings the back of his eyes.

He only succeeds in burning himself when he tries to hold her hands in some poor form of an apology.


	4. Spell

"Father, look!"

A small hand tugs on thick robes. The King seated at his throne shifts to look down at the raven-haired boy. Fingers fat with youth reach out, picking a rose with blue and white petals from seemingly nowhere, the green sparks the only hint at magic. 

"I can create illusions one can touch, Father! I learnt it myself. It took awhile but I learnt that by bending the light and bringing together several different spells-"

"Well done, Loki." The rose is lifted from small hands to big and the child beams proudly.

The rose tilts and exposes its transparency.

"You still have much to learn," the Allfather murmurs softly, inspecting the elegantly made rose. Loki nods but his smile doesn't falter.

"Father!" Thor crashes into the great hall and several guards just barely reign in their knee-jerk reactions and avoid spearing the eldest prince. "I can spell now! I can spell a great many things!"

"Truly?" Odin looks on amused. "Go on. Spell for me... Incantation."

"I. N. C. A. N. T. A. T. I. O. N!" Thor grins at Odin who laughs heartedly, dropping the rose when he picks Thor up and plants him in his lap.

"I have a very intelligent son!"

Loki blinks at the flower and it shimmers. He flushes in embarrassment when he looks around and none of the guards will look him in the eye. 

He turns and slinks quietly out of the hall. 

"I can spell too."

The rose shatters in a mist of green light.

 

 

 


	5. Chicken

"Why don't you ever challenge them to a holmgang?"

Loki remains silent, keeping his eyes trained on the book. He licks a finger and turns the page with it.

"Is it because you're scared?"

A flash of offended annoyance in Loki's eyes shows before it is tampered down into nothing but cooling embers.

"What are you, chicken?" Thor needles. Loki turns his head and glares at Thor, opening his mouth to say something nasty in return. "Because if you are, I'll help you show them how strong you really are."

Loki is struck speechless, wondering how to reply.

Then he sighs. "Do as you will, Thor. Just don't bother me." Then, he returns to his book. 

Thor catches the faint grin and for the next few days, its blissfully peaceful and quiet. Loki gifts Thor a roasted chicken as a thank you.


	6. Drooling

"You're drooling all over my table, sleepyhead. Go away," Loki shoves Thor.

"I don't drool!" Thor exclaims, pushing past Loki who laughs after him.

Thor drools in his sleep. While watching at women across the grand hall. Before and after eating. When he's so shocked his mouth hangs open and he forgets to swallow his own spit. When he is thristy and on the streets in the middle of a hot day.

Oh, but Thor never drools.


	7. Sun

Thor slowly sinks to the ground, soft grass giving way under his large mass. The sun is only starting to rise above the horizon. The water glitters like a smattering of gems.

Weariness weighs heavy on his shoulders. Everyone else is celebrating. The Man of Iron with his newly resurrected not-son,

_“HE’S NOT MY FATHER”_

Steve, son of Rogers with his newly resurrected not-brother...

“ _I’m not your brother. I never was.”_

Thor lifts his head to stare at the light warming his face.

_“Never doubt-”_

_“-the sun will shine on us again._

_“-that I love you.”_

_“I assure you brother,”_

He breathes, slowly. Take in the air.

And he waits.

He waits.

For the sun to shine on them again.


	8. Exhausted

****Loki drags Thor behind him, blood dragging in an ugly, accusing path behind him. He rests his brother on the tree, tiny hands working to see what has been damaged.

“Thor? Thor!” his hands rip apart cloth with ease, even despite his age and tiny fingers.

Green wisps stretch from untrained hands, seeking out the source of the blood pumping steadily out into his hands

A low moan that makes Loki all the more frantic. He strains his limited magic with all that a six-year-old can summon and heals.

Sweat beads upon his forehead and his nose start to bleed, but the gash in Thor’s stomach is still pushing out his life source.

After several hours, the last of his reserves drained, the wound seals shut, scarring over. Loki collapsed down, next to his brother.

Dark circles age his face by centuries, the strain tiring out the young boy. Thor stirs, painfully.

“Loki?”

A soft snore is his only reply.


	9. Star

“Papa. Do you think I can be as pretty as those glittery things in the sky?”

Loki turns to look down at Hela. He smiles gently and picks her up, swinging her until she squeals in joy and excitement. When he finally rests her on his shoulders, his is both dizzy and happy.

“My dear, you are already prettier than the stars.”

The half-rotting face peeps upside down, bending over her father’s head to look him in the eyes.

“Really, papa?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Do you doubt me?” the Liesmith asks. And he doesn’t lie. Not this time. Never.

“Never,” she replies firmly and without hesitation.


	10. Precious

When Frigga loses her son when Odin is off to war, she mourns and mourns for the babe she never even held in her arms.

  
For several months, she imagines what it would be like to have a little one again. She imagines it would just like when Thor was an infant. Perhaps simpler because she would be twice a mother now.

She imagines the newborn suckling on her breast. She names her dead babe Loki even though she has not seen his face or touched his skin or pressed kisses to his belly.

And when Odin comes back…

Loki is more precious than what her dreams could ever conjure.


	11. Insomnia

Thor has never had trouble sleeping. It was always his brother, Loki. Loki who went to bed but never closed his eyes, thin green wisps and glitter shining as bright as the sun, above his cot in a dark room shrouded by night and curtain. Loki would giggle to himself as he played and Thor would watch, uncharacteristically silent in awe.

Oh, Thor has always had such a blissful time watching tiny hands grow a little larger as the years passed, the wisps of green curling from sparkles into see-through horses and fighting men.

Then, when his eyes grew heavy and the beat of his heart slowed, he would fall asleep with the glow of magic lighting up the back of his eyelids and laughter like a lullaby to his ears.

Thor would wake up fully rested. He will look over to the next cot but he will never see it’s previous night’s occupant.

Loki grew up and out of Thor’s bedroom but still, the young warrior saw those green curls of magic every day, playing tricks and conjuring snakes.

He went to bed at peace every night, the day’s memory of green flashes and laughter soothing him to sleep.

Then he fell. His brother fell and took the green glow of joy and laughter _and rest_ with him and Thor took to Loki’s room, oft after laying in his own for hours. He would open the doors with tender care, hoping not to wake the nonexistent owner of the bedroom. He would climb onto the soft mattress, crawl under the empty covers.

And he lay awake.

He imagined hands, as large as his but thin and slender, dancing above his eyes. He imagined Loki forming illusions even at his age.

And he lay awake.

And he wept.


	12. Cruel

“How can you be so cruel!?” Thor roars, shaking Loki by the shoulders.

The ever-constant smirk fell away, twisting Loki’s features into an ugly mask. Its full of venom, hatred and _hurt_ and Thor pulls back a little, surprised by the multitude of strong emotion on his brother’s face.

“Me? Cruel?” a harsh bark of laughter grates his ears as Loki wrenches himself away from Thor’s hands. “You, who threw me into the depths of the Void, who called me argr when I did anything better than you, who sided your friends when they beat me because they were jealous and you disbelieve your brother, disbelieve in the Liesmith because how could _I_ ever be capable of _sincerity_ ,” Loki snarls.

Thor blinks, his mouth hanging open with no words to say.

“Shall I say more? Let's talk about how _your Father_ took my children and cast them out, their only fault was for being _mine_. How he made my sons _slaughter_ each other and then used their entrails to ensure I was bathed in acid for an eternity! How he lied to me about the monster I was and deceived me into thinking I was ever worthy of the throne because _how could a child eater, world destroyer and an effeminate nithing take the throne meant for his true, golden son_.

“And shall we talk about that Mother of yours? She _lied_ just like the Cruel Deceiver you call father, pretended to love me, offered me false platitudes in hopes of _shutting me up_ from destroying her _perfect son’s reputation_ but did nothing when I was pit against him because how could she go so far as to defend a _mindless creature_ instead of her son. Her lies and secret hatred for a monster disguised as love was only ever to crush me, wasn’t it?!” The last words were screamed, breathless with fury and sorrow.

Thor swallowed. “Brother-”

“I spit on you and your generation Odinsson because if it weren’t for the cruelty of the house of Odin, I wouldn’t be here to be _cruel_.”

A single tear dripped from green eyes and Loki turned away furiously, hiding his face.

“Leave me, Odinsson.”

“Loki-”

“If you wish to be cruel, you can stay.”

Thor bowed his head before he turned and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> I'm open to prompts from you too! It doesn't have to follow the Inktober list I'm doing.


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